


Crimson tears from the moon

by hyacinth_lea



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Based on the videogame but I'm taking some liberties with it, Drakengard 3 - AU, Drakengard 3 lore, Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Kinda, M/M, Minor Character Death, More warnings will be add if needed, Murder, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Non-Graphic Violence, Other pairings will be added as they happen, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Verbal Abuse, in the past, mentions of physical abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyacinth_lea/pseuds/hyacinth_lea
Summary: There is something about the state of faux harmony that makes the deepest form of dread stir under the soils. There is a particular eeriness in the melody which brings upon land the calm it once was robbed from--a chosen song by a flower aiming to destroy all in its path under the pretense of salvation.And Hakyeon can only attempt to put a halt at the looming fragrance of death lingering in the air, even if everyone standing in his path has to mingle with it--after all, he knows full well where the source of corruption comes from. One that tries to steal everything good that shows in his life, except that he wants the only thing precious to him to be the one that calls for all to fade to black.
Relationships: Cha Hakyeon | N/Lee Hongbin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	Crimson tears from the moon

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I created based on the Drakengard 3 lore and story, it sort of will follow its path but I'm taking many liberties with it. 
> 
> Please keep in mind this game deals with a lot of mature themes and I have changed things around for this to not tackle some things the same way because it may not end up being everyone's cup of tea. This game is an M rated one, meaning that it deals with sexual themes, violence (which is very visual there but I have controlled here to fit my style) and other triggering things like: forced underage prostitution which will not be dwelt upon as deeply, some verbal and physical abuse, and other things. There is murder, like yeah for sure.
> 
> I promise I have done all my best in order for the story to be feelings based while also following the lore and not give a word by word retelling. There will be violence but not gore. There will be eventual smut, depending on how that goes I will change the rating to E. Shall any other triggering things be added as the story progresses, I will add in the tags. 
> 
> With these warnings in mind, proceed if you would like to read ^^; I will make sure it's not as unforgiving as the tags make it sound. If you know the game you will already kinda know how this goes so be prepared for my take but with VIXX.
> 
> No characters of this franchise have been included.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -PROLOGUE CHAPTER-

It is referred to as nothing but sweet reverie, an eternal calm which beginning lays in history forged not so long ago--words resounding in its faux apparent veracity and marking themselves on the walls of the structures that form the Old World. With a lack of authenticity getting engraved in every soul that has come to inhabit a once ghost city that has brought nothing more than disaster since its wake. The fallacies serving as enough fuel to make iron be ready to raise its sharp edges shall the embodiment of everything wrong dare find flaw in the illogical belief imposed on everyone. 

It borders lunacy, the way steel approaches in ever rising echoes amping up in speed, the traces of gunpowder than can be felt even from the highest places in the muted gargantuan metropolis--and it makes Hakyeon scoff, that sheer desperation crawling its way in what he can refer to nothing but fright displaying before his mind in utmost vivacity that he swears he can even visualize it when his eyes fall shut. He can almost hear the yelling about to explode and boom throughout in a combination of boldness and the uncertainty of having him in such close proximity, being able to filter the words that condemn him--hatred and fear becoming one in an offensive stance about to be taken.

It makes a smile play on his lips, heart choosing to change its steady pace and let the thrill rush through his veins, racing inside his ribcage and feeding his determination with intensity--one akin to shots of euphoria but _this_ is far more blissful, an end to the voice resounding all throughout structures of unknown origin, a grand finale to a perpetrator of deception can make this sensation more delightful that any taste of ecstasy. 

Hakyeon hides behind the grand silver marble tower that raises from one of the mansions in the middle of the plaza not far from the outskirts of the Cathedral City, and from his spot he can see that same mass of iron approaching--soft humming falling from his lips as he raises, chilly air caressing and letting his figure be the anomaly in the middle of the capital. What _they_ made be the capital under their own delusion of rightfulness, but he knows it won't be for long--too much time has been given for such a reign that not only expands through the massive territory which surrounds him, of collapsed gray resting in between of other buildings still holding strong. But all throughout Midgard. 

It's a shame to see how the retaliation is advancing the more words are mentioned, ignorant to the fate awaiting moment they make the grave error of arriving at the plaza-- _a total shame_ , but hearing the legend is always the definition of amusement for Hakyeon. One that soon enough mingles with tinges of irritation and a rush of cynicism--how twisted can tales become when they are told to humanity as if it were the pure truth. It’s aggravating, but he has heard the words time and time again--echoing and imprinting themselves in weak minds that would not question anything that is presented to them for the peace they craved was given by a hellish nightmare Hakyeon aims to stop.

_‘For long ago, five angels descended to put an end to an era tarnished by endless conflict’_ what a total filthy lie, a clear attempt at brainwashing that has managed to make even the most skeptical of beings to believe--it’s been a year, nothing more than. _’Peace restored by their mystical songs, our land becoming unified by the will of these songsters and people began to worship them, as we all should do’_ the voice is starting to become grating, the fake claims at their original intention being twisted to make everyone believe such idiocy end up being stupidly effective. 

Hakyeon can hear steel grazing the gray stoned paths that cover the ground from the city, the sound coming so near--the reason for its approaching could be to keep hearing the lie but he is more than certain that it’s due to his _popularity_ around this place, if he should even be proud of the unwanted attention he has always got then maybe this time it’s ideal. After all, he is parched--so damn thirsty for what’s to come, _‘The gift of the Intoners, as people refer to them, is the harmony given by them to our land’_ _Bullshit_ , he would laugh so hard at that it would leave his abdomen hurting like he had been stabbed. It’s only the stupid who believe, and alas, all Midgard fell for this absurdity disguised as sweet tunes that make people fall at their feet and beauty. _Angels_ they call them, but they are nothing but lively puppets, whores to their own innermost desires, so filthy he feels he actually ends up looking like a saint, utter sick lascive wish corrupting each and every single one of them--Hakyeon had never seen something akin to such feelings being displayed, but he knows where it comes from more than anyone. And it all makes him feel a rush of disgust that he thinks he could have already disposed of, it makes shivers come to him, but he is here for the only tremor to rush through him be that of elation. 

One only found in the sweetness death provides. There is no better high than death after all. 

_‘Chaos is now a distant memory thanks to the effort of these Intoners, children of Midgard, forces of our capital’_ he starts finding the repetition annoying, and boredom crawls suit. He tilts his head to the side at the view that greets his eyes. _How lovely_ , his mind says, every single soul standing there in awaiting with their swords raised just makes a grin display in his features, just like pawns about to be taken down solely by the king--the only reality in all this, by the sweet tune of an angel like him.

But if they get in his way, no trace of hesitation will be present in letting his own sword drink from their blood, stopping its thirst like that--they are offering themselves to him in a silverplate, ready to be devoured, ravished until there is nothing left, _oh how the tables have turned_. How lovely it is to be the one that gets fresh meat on display ready to be savoured--nothing can be deemed a better compliment than being welcomed with this banquet. And the host is being so gracious in his wording so Hakyeon really considers showing his gratitude in the most enchanting of ways--calling for carmine to make its appearance. 

_‘Let mankind bask in the newfound light and beau--’_ it is a snapping of Hakyeon's fingers that does it, an explosion making an entrance in the tower big enough for Hakyeon's slender frame to pass through and for his boots to touch the wooden floor--for his own sword to taint in scarlet upon landing. 

It's digging through an alabaster robe with gold embroidery of a flower he knows very well, memory of a distant lily that became in his life more than he would have thought. The blade digs right through the chest of one of the figures of authority that now lies trapped between his desk and Hakyeon, making a pool of red cover the expanse of many documents scattered all over the surface-- _probably speeches filled with more lies_ , Hakyeon muses. The bishop is owner of such vivid scarlet that Hakyeon's pupils dilate upon sight, that’s the first of them he kills. 

“It would be better if you shut up" Hakyeon breathes against the man's neck, warmth falling from his lips and fanning against quivers he could feel should he let his lips touch, he is making the point of his sword dig deeper in the wooden surface, burying, twisting slightly while blood tarnishes the embroidery crafted in his blade--a grunt escaping from the man beneath him, "you are all talk, ridiculous old man"

"You.." the man beneath him mutters, in an obvious last attempt to defame him, "You murderous savage"

"Savage?" Hakyeon responds, mercy is non-existent when a swift slash withdraws the sword and tears the back of the man causing for drops of crimson to tarnish Hakyeon's face and his clothes, "I thought you mean intoner" 

A drizzle of blood seals the moment of death and leaves its signature printed on dark gray walls. _This_ is sweet reverie, not the crap that has been uttered to make _them_ look like the ones sent by any God the people from Midgard now believe in--though it's those five that get all the worshipping. There is a grand mirror that allows Hakyeon to see himself, by looks, he should also fall in that category of beautiful angel sent to Midgard to create harmony--yet his tarnished white cape will make them name him other definitions. No matter how beautifully it wraps around his wait, the sleeves similar to wings, no matter the leather covering his thighs and the embroidery in his belt, he looks like insanity personified.

One they want to put an end to immediately. 

A cannon shoots the mansion's way, a yell of _'He is in there! Take him down!'_ accompanying the collapse of the walls as he turns around to see the bricks falling and troops surrounding the place, all the iron came his way, "Just when I was feeling myself" he flips his hair, fingers grazing rich ebony as he walks in direction towards the hole that has been formed by the explosion, "My audience is here" 

It’s still surrounded by smoke, but it’s clear enough for Hakyeon’s eyes to visualize who seems to be leading this group--hand on the canon to make another shot be directed at the place where they know Hakyeon is at. 

“Kill the traitorous demon!” one of them proclaims, and with an unfading smile, Hakyeon swirls in the air choosing the talkative soldier to be the one to be so fortunate to open the ethereal carnage he is about to initiate. He moves like a whirlwind of black and white, like a flash that lands on the man pushing him to the ground while graciously letting his sword make its way through the crevices of the silver helmet--a storm of red flying in huge drops in the air. _How lucky_ , Hakyeon thinks, that before his death, this preacher of ignorance had the fortune of seeing Hakyeon’s visage before all faded to black. How many would have killed for that before, paid a fortune to.

Hakyeon withdraws his weapon, making blood tarnish the armours and shields from soldiers surrounding him while he makes a quick count from the ones that are before his eyesight. A gasp falls from one of them as Hakyeon raises to his feet and takes in the view, there are dozens upon dozens and probably more troops coming--and he looks like a white lily having been thrown in a dark gray pond. One that won’t drown today, he is certain.

He allows them to admire him for some fleeting moments, a transitory look at beauty before he makes it all as right as it should be. He bites on his bottom lip while seeing the defensive stance, spears, swords, shields--a futile attempt to protect their own lives and to rip him away from his own _. As if they could_ , as if they really could.

His sword calls for it, and he decides to make a show like it always was asked of him--now one pleasurable enough for himself, righteous in its nature as well. It’s delicate, the way he swirls off the ground and dashes through the air, using each of the soldiers bodies as leverage before slashing through their armors and claiming their blood in his blade. He seems to fly like a white dove imposing peace in his own way, the flash of white from his cape ever so graceful and leaving engraved in every soldiers pupils the illusion of him flying across the plaza. But it’s more than just that, more than a simple daydream of him doing so, of relishing in the killing--of the grin in his lips, it’s the reality as he spirals in the air and creates a storm of ruby, a fountain of deep red raising high and falling back to tarnish steel laying down on stone.

Breathtaking scarlet overflowing from the dozens of men lying dead on the ground, an enchanting landscape accompanied by the light gray sky that overlooks from above. Hakyeon lightly caresses one of his cheeks tainted by all the activity as he descends and his boots touch the ground--his clothes are stained, but there is no time to dwell on that and he will make use of that red at any moment.

His ears don’t need more than the sound of the cannon being moved to be able to register the intentions--troops are standing at the fortress that surrounds the plaza, taking cover behind it as if that was enough to save themselves, thinking that the distance between them and Hakyeon is going to serve as their sole method of protection, “The likes of you shall not pass to taint our angels’ purity!”

Hakyeon rolls his eyes at that and lets a smile crawl its way on his lips, pronouncing then a name which would also be vexed by the foul words directed at him, “Hongbin-ah” it’s the mention of the only name that gives Hakyeon the sole sense of certainty in his life that sets all ablaze, like a gale burning bright and aiming to reduce all down to very ashes--an explosion far more grand in magnitude than that any cannon could cause. All done for Hakyeon, displaying right in front of his eyes to grant him a smile. 

He feels the dust from the ground lifting, an all too familiar flapping of magnificent wings coming close to him--and soon enough, a dash that marks the landing of the impressive being that towers behind him and has its wings nearly enveloping Hakyeon in a defensive stance. He hears the roaring ever close, breaking the silence that death imposed on the plaza and turns his head to the side-- taking in the flash of metallic cerulean greeting him with golden horns that end in a perfect spiral and a determined gaze ready to burn it all down. A dragon, a perfect companion for an intoner. 

He is loyalty, he is magnificence--beauty materialized in every form he has ever taken and it never fails to always rob Hakyeon of the ability to steadily breathe, of getting lost in the imposing form that Hongbin now displays just like in the moments when Hakyeon can't prevent himself to do anything but let admiration rush through him at every different sight from him. There is fire burning in Hongbin's eyes, anger boiling through him at all that has been said--and Hakyeon can only bring himself to caress his companion's face as he draws closer.

It's always somehow right to do it, let himself indulge in a transitory moment of the calm the curse has stolen from their lives, of the fake peace they have to put an end to no matter the way, "It's time to put an end to these so called Intoners" 

It's like an order, but Hongbin takes flight at those words, always remaining close and Hakyeon rushes into the Cathedral city, passing by the bodies they have eliminated so far only to be met with more brainwashed troops that claim treason and wish to see him out of their way--expelled, killed. 

Hakyeon's blade doesn't stop its work and he gets condemned everytime it buries into flesh and slashes through the thickest steel, it doesn't stop as Hongbin sets all on fire behind Hakyeon, "I was told intoners are supposed to bring peace!" He gets reprimanded to the point he can't help but want to burst into a fit of laughter.

"What bullshit are they telling you these days?" Hakyeon responds to the seemingly bemused soldiers that obviously do not understand the situation--seeing in Hakyeon's actions anything but those of an intoner, of the grace that befalls from their melodies and charming incantations. Of the mirage. 

"Why is an intoner trying to kill one of their own!" Is a shriek that comes from another soldier and Hakyeon's eyes burn bright with a wicked sign that makes dread from the troops materialize in such way it's almost palpable. 

"Should we tell them?" Hakyeon manages to catch Hongbin's words, his real tone mixing with the roar--that deep rich low tone Hakyeon has seen come to be in all these years, with that hint of cheekiness still holding to his words even in his current form, "Their curiosity seems entirely genuine"

"Why? They are all about to die anyway" Hakyeon responds, a flick of his fingers causing threads of carmine to slip from his fingers and hastily latch onto the throats of a group of soldiers surrounding him--only to be replaced by grunting and gasping as they press tighter before all explodes in red once more.

_'Kill the betrayer'_ becomes a chant from the soldiers as Hakyeon advances through the armed forces that have taken over the place labeled as Capital, blaze entrapping other soldiers at different edges as Hakyeon lets his steps try to take him closer to the centre of the city where the Cathedral stands, "See, they are calling you a traitor"

"I have been called worse" and he truly has, far too many derogatory words have been etched in his mind so far as his memory allows him to remember--to the point that being called traitor is the tamest thing someone has ever referred to him as, "I would take them seriously if their voices weren't trembling" 

Hakyeon doesn't know when they managed to gather hundreds of army men ready and at their disposal to put their throats at the mercy of an Intoner like himself--it must be what people define as fanaticism, blindly following orders to get favours. And he can only imagine of _what_ kind.

As he dashes in a frenzy, smashing barriers and shouting at everyone to _'get the hell out of his way'_ there is a sound of a laughter ringing in his ears--so familiar he would dare say it truly comes from himself, from a version of him twisted by warped righteous thinking. A tone that filters through his ears as he twirls with ruby splashing across the streets, it's infuriating how the honeyed tune seeps through him, so mockingly, "What a way to be suicidal, Cha Hakyeon"

"Shut up you hoax!" Hakyeon finds himself yelling, eyes darting around the place and falling on the towers, the collapsed buildings--erratically looking for the source of the ridicule and more than ready to put a stop to the words falling from enchanting lips he knows far too well, alluring and damned. Something Hakyeon knows the very reason that lies behind said fact--too engraved for him to turn a blind eye to. 

It's irritating how threats even feel like the sweetest caramel but when he remembers the origin of the fleeting trance they impose on him, he makes it so that whatever allure he could feel ends up replaced by the resolution he has owned all this time--no matter how clear a mirror is, distortion displaying at the other side is unavoidable, “You are making the gravest mistake by declaring us war” 

The majestic of the metropolis unfolds in the haze, the muted buildings becoming a daze as a high pitched scream slashes through the blur that Capital city has turned into before Hakyeon's eyes. It's the calling, one that turns into harmony and makes the ground shake beneath him--melodious singing reaching his ears, deadly in all its nature, summoning the collision of the ground Hakyeon stands on. 

"You truly are fighting a pointless fight" echoes through the domains of the Old World, "A truly pointless fight… brother"

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a prologue - the rest of the story will be posted as I go ^^♡ hopefully I can find a steady schedule to post this and I do hope you guys enjoy this story, and really it's not as bad as the tags make it sound ahdh 
> 
> Either way, hope you enjoy this and would like to know your impressions in the case it gets you interested. I'm going to try to deal with violence in this way so that it doesn't turn into a gory thing (since I'm not used to writing gore anyway) 
> 
> ~/Find me on:  
> [//❥❥twitter//](https://twitter.com/hyacinth_lea) [//❥❥CuriousCat//](https://curiouscat.me/hyacinth_lea)[//❥❥Tumblr//](https://hyacinthlea.tumblr.com/)


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